I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to my readers. For some, Christmas can be tough, a time where we are reminded of losses. For others it means being together with loved ones and feeling happy. I am celebrating Christmas with my sister, brother and father. My two half-siblings will come later in the evening. We will eat good food and then open Christmas gifts.

Like this:

A friend of mine has been at the hospital for three weeks now. She has lupus and is always at the risk of getting different sorts of infections that make her really sick. Today the doctor told her that if she gets sick like this again, she might not get children. And she can not try to get pregnant for at least six months. And she really wanted a child. Having that possibility wiped away from her, made her realize that she is sicker than she wants.

Life can be really unfair, and right now my friend is feeling disappointed and tired of the problems piling up in front of her. I can’t quite imagine how she manages, but one of the things that I’m impressed by is that she’s able to feel her pain. That she allow herself to feel grief. I know life has been meaningless for her, but she is one of the bravest and most wonderful people I know. So I will think about her, and hope that she can get out of the hospital soon and feel good enough to do something that will give her time to heal and rest.

When changes are coming, my need to write blossoms like a seed in the ground. It has been there, all the time, but waiting. I don`t always like this waiting period. The days that just go on and on, with nothing new in them. I have never been good with routine, even when I need to feel safe.

Today I was on my second job interview. This interview was for a job I wanted even more than the last one, since it is in a part of Norway I have better vibes towards. I think the interview went well, since I actually got to say the things I wanted to tell them about. My burning desire to do something for people, my interest in holding lectures (that would be a huge part of the job) and my belief in preventive work.

When I drove home, I felt something growing inside me. The little seed, that has been sleeping the last weeks, got water and started to flourish. Right now I am working at a psychiatric ward, and there has been far too little to do there this last week. Mostly because we are many therapists, but also because doctors focus more on medication than just “talking”. Some days are really good, but it is not the same as where I worked before, at a unit where I had 5-6 patients a day, finding every conversation invigorating. Now there is meeting after meeting, and too few therapeutic processes. That`s why it felt so good to feel that soon I might do something I love again. A new chance to live and breathe psychology, and a new place to do it. The city I work in now, is filled with bad memories from my previous relationship, and I need a fresh start. I need to be me again.

When I came home, I met my little brother. We decided we`d watch some episodes of “how I met your mother”, and made carrots with dip and pop-corn. He sat close to me, and we talked in between the episodes. He started to talk about school. that there was so much to do. A lot of homework, and that meant he had less time to do other things. He is really talented in many aspects, like drawing. Two years ago (he is now 16) I saw his first portrait. He had drawn a girl in his class, and I was shocked to discover that I could actually see the person he had been drawing. I asked him: “How did you do that?” And he answered: “I don`t know. I just did!”. I looked into his eyes, and told him to not use all his time on homework to get good grades, that what I regretted most from my years at school, was the unnecessary hours where I read and repeated something I forgot a week after the exam. That I rather should have used more time on my interests, or being social. Because life is not a rehearsal for something that might be better, it is all about the things you love doing here and now. So, now I feel like I found back to that piece of me that follows my heart, being the flower I prefer, not just someone else`s wallflower.

So, I will shake off my old self and start walking on a new path in my life. And I really look forward to it.

Like this:

Last week I got the phone call. Would I be interested to come to a job interview? The job is in a little city 3 hours away from here, as a community psychologist. The job description is working with youngsters from 7-18 years old, and it will entail education of health personnel who work with children and families with problems. I really want this job, so am quite nervous before the interview. I practiced together with my supervision last week, and found I lost my words quite often. What are my worst qualities? How will I contribute to the well-being of the children? How will I react when I have to go against the parents wishes because they don’t see the problem? Some questions are hard to answer because I don’t always have a firm opinion about what they want to know. What is most important, though, is to get my enthusiasm out there. I want to help others, and the reason for really wanting this job is that it will be all about early stage treatment. I will have the chance to focus on prevention and not just healing after people have suffered for years. I also like the fact that I’ll have the chance to work together with people from different occupations, like nurses, teachers and politicians. I will be able to contribute with what I know about psychology on a community level, and this has truly been a dream for me. So cross your fingers for me!

At three and half years old he is capable of entering the security code on my iPad so that he can play one of his games. He knows his numbers from one to ten and is able to identify most of the letters of the alphabet. And just recently he has learned to play a pretty good game of catch.

So why is it that my son can’t wrap a blanket around his body by himself?

I can’t count how many times my son has asked either my wife or I to tuck him in. The first three hundred times he asked, I thought to myself, “when will he learn to tuck his own self in?” I mean usually we’re just talking about a foot sticking out here or a toe sticking out there.

Then it hit me last week that maybe it is not the physical act of tucking in that’s significant. Maybe it’s what tucking in represents that matters to kids.

It helps them to feel good.

It helps them to feel safe.

More than anything, it helps them to feel loved.

Tucking a child in only requires an extra moment or two. But that extra moment or two may be the difference between a fantastic dream or a frightening nightmare.

As I reflect more on how much it means to my son to be tucked in I can’t help but think that tucking in may be a metaphor that extends beyond blankets and children. Maybetucking in can apply to those moments in our lives when we can provide something for someone that they may not be ready to provide for themselves.

We’ve all had someone provide these moments of comfort and reassurance to us and we remember how good it felt to know that we were not alone. It’s possible that we would have been fine on our own, but it’s certain that we were better for someone stepping up and helping to tuck us in.

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I am a psychologist working as a trauma therapist in Norway.
I am blogging about my life and psychology-related topics. I am also working on a book about my life and work, that will be published this year.
Thank you all for visiting my blog.